


Enough is Enough

by thunderingskies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Break Up, Getting Back Together, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/pseuds/thunderingskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have some nerve saying hello like nothing has happened.”</p><p>Kyoutani stands at Yahaba’s door, his feet planted firmly to the floor. He has had to steel his nerves, promising himself he won’t go inside his apartment. Once he crosses that threshold, he knows that he won’t be able to control himself.</p><p>“It’s been a week, Shigeru. You’ve been ignoring me entirely for a week. I think… I think it’s time we stop this.” Kyoutani takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.  He isn’t mad.</p><p>He’s tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough is Enough

**Author's Note:**

> So this was initially a drabble that I got requests to do a sequel and then a third part for, so I decided to just re-post this story as a complete one shot.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“You have some nerve saying _hello_ like nothing has happened.”

Kyoutani stands at Yahaba’s door, his feet planted firmly to the floor. He has had to steel his nerves, promising himself he won’t go inside his apartment. Once he crosses that threshold, he knows that he won’t be able to control himself.

“It’s been a week, Shigeru. You’ve been ignoring me entirely for a week. I think… I think it’s time we stop this.” Kyoutani takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.  He isn’t mad.

He’s tired.

He’s tired of feeling like a burden to Yahaba.

He’s tired of calling him and sending messages, only to not get any replies.

He’s tired of Yahaba only coming around when he wants him.

He’s tired of explaining why Yahaba is never by his side anymore.

But more than anything - he’s tired of loving someone who isn’t ready to love him back.

Yahaba agreed to be his boyfriend six months ago, and in the beginning, it was great. Yahaba liked Kyoutani. They would go out together to their friend’s parties, go on dates, spend _time_ together. But for the past month or so things have gone seriously downhill.

Yahaba isn’t ready to be tied down to a serious relationship. He likes to be able to do as he pleases. Take an impromptu trip on the weekend, flirt with any girl or guy that might catch his eye at a party. He likes Kyoutani, that much is certain, but it’s not the time for them.

“Kentarou…” Yahaba looks down at him, eyes wide. “It’s hard for me, you know? I just am trying to figure out some things… I do love you, I really do, I just-“

“Stop… just stop.”

Kyoutani sighs. Yahaba stops, finally stops, and looks at Kyoutani. The guilt is apparent on his face; he knows that he’s hurt his boyfriend. He knows that he’s been distant and pulling away, that he’s been trying to act like he’s single even though he’s not. He doesn’t understand himself or what he wants.

“This isn’t the end. It’s just… the part where I decide that enough is enough.”

That’s the worst part – he loves Yahaba. Even now, the urge to sweep away his tears with a thumb and kiss his forehead until he smiles is almost overwhelming. He hates to see him sad and crying. He’s not a bad person. He deserves to be happy.

Kyoutani just knows that right now, he’s not the right person to be making him happy.

“I’m sorry…” Yahaba is tearing up. “I’m sorry, this isn’t fair to you. I love you… I want to ask you to wait for me… but it’s not even fair.” He buries his face in his hands, tears spilling from his eyes.

Kyoutani shakes his head. He needs to leave and he needs to do it now. “No. I can’t do that.” He sighs, bringing a hand up to Yahaba’s face. He presses his thumb against his jaw, wiping away a tear.

“Goodbye, Shigeru.”

* * *

 

Yahaba yawns into his cup of coffee, taking a nice long sip. It’s made just the way he likes it – sweet, with a hint of vanilla flavour. The outdoor café he’s sitting at is quiet, thanks to the early hour. It’s his favourite place in the city – ever since he moved here six months ago, he visits it at least three mornings a week. All of the baristas know his order by now, which is kind of nice.

He looks to his side where his dog is curled up at his feet, resting after their morning walk. His dog is his faithful companion and has been at his side for the better part of the last year. He adopted the fur ball from the dog shelter on a whim, which was irresponsible for him but ended up being a great decision.

The brunet pulls out a book, skimming through a few pages in search of his place (he’s awful with bookmarks – he always loses them). He enjoys having these mornings to himself, enjoying some time outside now that the weather is nicer. He likes spring, his favourite season. The air is crisp from the rainfall they experienced the night before, the flowers blooming… everything is just as it should be.

As always, though, he feels that familiar ache that he’s become accustomed to. That little voice in his head telling him that something is missing.

He pushes it away though, as he always does. He gets lost in his book for the next half hour or so until his dog stirs by his feet, sitting up and sniffing. He barks softly which gets Yahaba’s interest. He’s not a loud dog – he only really barks when there’s another dog nearby.

So Yahaba isn’t really surprised to see a guy with his dog standing at the stand making his order. He’s got a beautiful golden retriever with him. It stands tall, limbs lanky yet Yahaba can see it’s well-cared for from its strong-looking muscles. It has a thick, dark brown coat, strands of fur blowing in the wind.

His eyes finally flick up from the dog and he freezes.

He sees familiar blonde hair with those trademark stripes. His gaze travels over his body – broad shoulders, large hands. He’s sure he’s just as muscular as before, but the dark brown hoodie he’s wearing is obstructing him from investigating.

He looks exactly the same as the last time he saw him, which was a year, six months and seventeen days ago (Yahaba would know – he’s been counting).  

It’s been a year, six months and seventeen days since he’d looked into those golden eyes.

In that time, he’s graduated college.

He’s out of his apartment.

He got a new job in a new city. He thought it would be a great start for him – which it was. For his career.

He’s travelled. He has spent time abroad, meeting lots of interesting and captivating individuals.

Yet, he has not dated anyone else. He had a few one night-stands, but the more he tried to talk to new people, the more he realized that nobody gave him that same, warm feeling that he got from a certain grumpy blonde.

Every time he thinks of Kyoutani, though, his heart flops. He remembers his expression on the night that they broke up. He was hurt, so sad, and it was all Yahaba’s fault. He’d been stupid and not ready.

Well, possibly not stupid. If there’s anything Yahaba has learned in his time away from Kyoutani it is that this time on his own has really allowed him to grow. He’s not the same person he was a year and a half ago.

He’s learned. He’s learned not to be selfish. He’s experimented, he’s failed, he’s succeeded. He’s beginning to discover what is truly important in life.

Now, confronted with this possibility… seeing Kyoutani _right in front of him_ … it all clicks into place. He _needs him_. There is nothing else.

He’s hurt Kyoutani. He knows this, he’s spent nights lying awake at night crying about it. He knows he can never make up for this lost time and the pain he’s caused. And yet… he has to move, he has to do _something_. He never thought he’d get a chance like this again. He knows that unless he gets over his fears right here and now, Kyoutani will forever be the one that got away.

And he will never forgive himself for night trying. For not at least giving it one more try and fighting for them.

Yahaba stands quickly, almost knocking his chair down in the process. Kyoutani’s dog whines, wags its tail wildly and tries to pull Kyoutani towards Yahaba and his dog. “Oi, stop pulling…” Kyoutani turns and he spots Yahaba.

Yahaba freezes about two feet away from him. His dog pulls on his leash and Yahaba lets it fall slack, allowing him to go up and sniff Kyoutani’s dog. Their tails wag as they sniff each other.

“Shigeru?”

Yahaba wants to cry. He wants to pull out his phone and record that, make it his ringtone, wake up to it every fucking day. The way he says his name is so _beautiful_. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead he just stammers, “I…I…I…”

He meets Kyoutani’s gaze and is surprised. He’s not mad. He’s not seething. He’s looking at Yahaba with soft eyes. Why?

“It’s good to see you, Shigeru.”

Yahaba nods. He steels his nerves, he pushes down the urge to burst into tears, because he has a lot to say. “You too… Kentarou.” He tests the name out, and to his pleasure it still feels wonderful. Kyoutani flinches a bit at the use of his first name, but his expression softens. “Do you… have a minute to sit down?”

Kyoutani doesn’t respond but instead nods, walking over to a table. His dog follows, sniffing and licking at Yahaba’s hands when he reaches down to pet him. “It’s cute, what it’s name?” He asks Kyoutani, sitting next to him at the small table.

“Miki,” Kyoutani answers. He leans down to scratch behind Yahaba’s dogs ear. “And yours?”

“Taro,” he replies. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to Kyoutani considering all that’s happened. “I… I have a few things I’d like to say. It might take me a minute to get out, so can you promise you’ll listen to everything before responding?”

Kyoutani nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

Yahaba takes a deep breath. There are so many things swimming around in his head – begs of _I love you_ and _please take me back_ alongside incessant strings of apologies. Kyoutani is patient, and busies himself petting Taro while Yahaba carefully considers what he wants to say.

“First of all… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kentarou. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. You’re such an amazing person… all you ever did was love me. And I threw it away.” He breathes out, looking down. His face scrunches in displeasure as he recalls the painful memory. “But… I needed to learn. I needed to grow up. I wasn’t ready to be the person you deserve; the person you need. In this time that we’ve been apart, I’ve learned that. I can see it now. I can see what’s important, and what I was clinging to that wasn’t.”

He finally looks up to meet Kyoutani’s eyes, who is looking at him carefully, face emotionless. “I know that there’s nothing I can say to make up for what I did. I’m sure… no, I know how hard it was. How much it hurt. I know that, but I can’t help but be selfish and ask if you can forgive me. I need you, Kentarou. I love you so much, I never stopped. I don’t want to waste any more of our time being apart when we should be together. I… I want to prove to you how much you mean to me.”

Yahaba isn’t expecting instant forgiveness, or even forgiveness any time soon. He knows the damage he’s caused, but he’s determined. He’s unwavering in his desire to do whatever it takes to make this work.

“Remember what I said?”

“What you s-said?” Yahaba stammers, eyes looking up at Kyoutani. He’s still looking at him with such a calm, collected face.

“Yeah. When we broke up, what I said to you.”

Yahaba thinks, before nodding. “ _This isn’t the end,_ ” he says, quoting Kyoutani’s words.

“Exactly.”

He doesn’t seem to understand, though, so Kyoutani places one of his hands on the table, palm-up. Yahaba stares – just stares – before gingerly threading their fingers together. Kyoutani can feel how hard he’s shaking.

“I… I never stopped loving you, either. Don’t think I can. ‘S just the way it is.” Kyoutani looks up at him and offers him a smile.

Yahaba opens his mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a choked sob. He squeezes Kyoutani’s hand, shoulders trembling as he can’t hold back those tears any longer.

Kyoutani sighs. “Shigeru. What ‘m I gonna do with you?” He stands, pushes his chair closer to Yahaba so that when he sits, their knees are pressed together. He keeps his one hand pressed tightly against Yahaba’s and his other slides around his back, pulling him in to his chest. “C’mere.”

Yahaba finally lets go and cries, big, wet tears that fall on Kyoutani’s chest. The blonde holds him strong, gripping his hand, a warm weight against his back. “I’m sorry,” Yahaba chokes out.

“I know.” Kyoutani buries his face in soft brown hair. “I know you are.” He presses a kiss on the top of his head. It won’t be easy. He can’t trust that quickly again. But he owes it to himself to give them another chance.

He, too, wants to fight for this.

“Thank you,” Yahaba breathes. “I love you, Kentarou. Thank you for giving me another chance to show you.”

* * *

 

Kyoutani tilts his head back, letting out a soft moan. His breathing is heavy and his heart is beating a mile a minute in his chest. He briefly wonders if Yahaba can feel it, but that thought is quickly dismissed as a pair of hands press themselves against the small of his back, fingertips dipping just below the waistband of his shorts.

It’s been a _long_ time since they’ve touched each other in this way. (A year, six months and twenty-nine days, if you ask Yahaba. He’s been counting.) Kyoutani is initially very nervous about letting Yahaba back into his life – the pain he had caused, although long ago, still ached something fierce.

But having Yahaba by his side is starting to ease that pain. Slowly but surely.

Not only is it easing the pain in his heart, but it is awakening desires he’d long put to bed with the brunet out of his life. Now, though? He couldn’t keep his eyes off him.

Yahaba presses Kyoutani harder against the door to his bedroom, lips pressing against his with urgency. His hands slide down Kyoutani’s waist to the hem of his shirt and all but rip it from his body. He _needs_ him, god he needs him right now- Yahaba moans as he captures one of his nipples between his lips, rolling it around against his tongue. Kyoutani moans, digging his fingernails into Yahaba’s back, spurring him on.

Logic strikes and Yahaba pulls back only to hurriedly turn the doorknob of his bedroom. They stumble together, a mess of limbs as they kiss and feel and fall on to the bed. They kiss passionately, not willing to stop and wait for anything after having wasted so much time being apart.

Yahaba breaks the kiss and slides down Kyoutani’s body. He lets his tongue, teeth and lips explore his lover’s skin thoroughly. He wants to re-familiarize himself with every inch of Kyoutani; memorize his body like it was the first time he was seeing it.

“Is this okay?” Yahaba mouths against his skin, lips pressed next to his navel. He’s been extremely careful about asking – he doesn’t want to push. It’s important for him to know where his boyfriend is at and exactly what he wants. Kyoutani nods because _yes_ , he wants this _so_ badly, it makes him feel like a horny teenager and honestly he feels as though he should have more self-control than this. But who needs self-control anyway?

“Yes,” he mumbles against Yahaba’s lips, “I wanna fuck you. ‘S that what you want too?”

“Yes _please_ ,” Yahaba groans, setting to work. He sinks his teeth into the flesh of Kyoutani’s hips, relishing in his soft moans and pleads.

“God, I missed this,” Yahaba mumbles as he licks a circle around Kyoutani’s navel, letting his tongue trail over the salty skin. “You taste so good. You _look_ so good. God damn it, Kentarou.” His hands slide to Kyoutani’s front, tracing the distinct muscles of his abdomen. Yahaba presses down lightly, grinning with delight as he watches the muscles work beneath his skin. He’s fit as fuck and it’s honestly a huge turn-on.

Kyoutani grins, and because he is not the most patient of men, he lets his hands fist in Yahaba’s hair. He tugs - just on the side of rough - and Yahaba allows his body to be pulled flush on top of Kyoutani’s. Before he can say anything Kyoutani kisses him, tongue slipping out immediately, licking across his lower lip. Yahaba responds eagerly. He opens his mouth to give him better access and Kyoutani takes his time in tasting Yahaba.

Their lips slot together like they have never been apart; like they’ve been doing this for their entire lives.

Kyoutani slips his hands under Yahaba’s shirt, sliding up and feeling the soft skin of his back. He grips tightly to his shoulders as Yahaba moans into the kiss, grinding against Kyoutani unabashedly.

“ _Kentarou_ ,” Yahaba groans, pulling back just enough to get a good look at Kyoutani’s face.

He’s flushed, his lips red from kissing and he looks so damn handsome.

Yahaba knows how lucky he is.

Kyoutani’s fingers pop open the button of the brunet’s jeans, zipping them open. He wiggles them down until he’s able to slide them halfway down his ass; Yahaba takes the incentive to completely rid them from his body. Kyoutani tugs at his briefs and Yahaba chuckles breathily, pulling them off, too. Yahaba slides off Kyoutani’s sweatpants with familiarity, tugging off his boxers in the process.

Now that they’re both naked Yahaba straddles Kyoutani, their dicks sliding together. The blonde lets out a soft moan, eyes fluttering closed. But Yahaba won’t close his eyes – he’s too busy staring at the beautiful man beneath him, hard and flushed, body twitching with need.

Yahaba grins; his mind is flooded with memories of all the times they’ve fucked, the memory of that tingly feeling he’d get when Kyoutani would bend him over and all the places Kyoutani likes to be touched…

He experimentally presses his palms against Kyoutani’s hips, thumbs brushing just above his dick. His boyfriend keens, hips thrusting up as he moans from the contact. “Still ticklish, I see,” Yahaba chuckles as he thrusts his hips forward, brushing their cocks together again.

“Fuck,” Kyoutani curses under his breath, gripping tightly on to Yahaba’s hips. Yahaba slides his fingers down teasingly, pressing feather-light _just_ around his dick. It’s almost torturous and Kyoutani’s moans are filthy, which only spurs him on. Yahaba applies a little more pressure, fingertips swiping just above his balls and Kyoutani _growls_ -

Suddenly he’s on his back, Kyoutani hovering above him. Kyoutani’s teeth sink into Yahaba’s collarbone mercilessly, sucking until the skin blossoms into a deep bruise. He pops off, grinning, biting down on all the exposed skin of his chest. Kyoutani likes to bite, he likes to _mark_ and Yahaba can do nothing but squirm and moan at how amazing it feels.

“ _Shigeru_ ,” Kyoutani’s voice is so low and husky it makes Yahaba shiver. He arches his back as Kyoutani sucks another bruise on one of his shoulders. One of his rough hands slides its way down Yahaba’s chest, feeling his soft skin. He starts to rock their hips together, cocks pressing together hotly. Yahaba lets out a harsh grunt as his head slams back against the bed, his back arching. His toes curl and his body tingles, Yahaba begins to breathe heavily, panting almost until Kyoutani stops altogether and his weight leaves Yahaba.

“ _Kentarou-_ “ he whines, eyes fluttering open. Kyoutani is back, inching his way between Yahaba’s legs.

Kyoutani looks up and their eyes meet; he maintains eye contact as he presses kisses against the inside of Yahaba’s thighs, tongue lapping and teeth biting down on the plump flesh. The brunet moans as he makes more marks, marks that Yahaba _knows_ he should be embarrassed about but in this moment he really couldn’t care less.

Kyoutani hitches one of Yahaba’s legs over his shoulder, forcing his body halfway up and off of the bed. Yahaba whines and Kyoutani marks his leg with another small red bruise before pressing a wet finger against his entrance.

The taller stills, body freezing as Kyoutani slides a finger into him. It has been _so long_ since he has felt this indescribable pleasure and he stretches out his legs, keening in pleasure.

“So sensitive, Shigeru,” Kyoutani chuckles as he begins to move his finger. He rubs against Yahaba’s sensitive muscles gently, thrusting his finger in and out. Yahaba moans, body writhing under the touch. Kyoutani works him slowly until he’s able to add another finger, and then a third. He thrusts in with vigor, pads of his fingers searching for-

“ _Kentarou!”_ Yahaba moans loudly, filthily, his body shivering. He pants as Kyoutani grins, pressing against his sweet spot again. His vision blurs and he spews out nonsense, pleas for more and half-coherent moans of Kyoutani’s name.

Kyoutani scissors his fingers, thrusts a few more times just for good measure and pulls his fingers out. They’re slick and he rubs the brunt of it on his dick, squeezing more from the bottle. He lays Yahaba down gently, “How d’ya wanna do it?” He has no idea how much sex Yabaha has had recently and from behind would be the least painful but Yahaba always used to tell him he liked being able to kiss during.

“Like this, stupid,” Yahaba grunts but there’s no malice in his voice, only teasing. He knows Kyoutani and he’s glad to see him grin, lining his hard cock up against his entrance. He brings their lips together, a little wet but nonetheless perfect. Kyoutani presses forward and his cock slides past the first ring of muscle in Yahaba’s ass.

The brunet keens, eyes squeezing shut as he pants into their kiss. He’s not used to this – he hasn’t been fucked since Kyoutani – it burns, it _hurts_ , but in the most incredible way. He rolls his hips in a desperate attempt for more friction but Kyoutani doesn’t stop, he thrusts forward until he’s fully buried in Yahaba. It feels _incredible_ , he gasps for breath, _god_ how did he go so long without this?

“Oh fuck Shigeru,” Kyoutani moans, back arching as he stars to thrust. “I’m never letting you go again.” Yahaba’s body is pulling him in with every push and pull and he can’t help but watch where their bodies are connected, his cock deep inside Yahaba.

They move fast, with need, bodies pressing together hotly, moaning each other’s names passionately. It’s a show of trust, of forgiveness, revealing a need for each other that never fully dissipated. Kyoutani presses in hard and Yahaba rolls his hips to meet him, nails digging into his forearms.

Yahaba has heard about make-up sex before. Oikawa shamelessly told him many details from his own make-up after he and Iwaizumi spent a summer apart. From what he said, it was hot, it was unyielding and _incredible._

But hearing about it and actually experiencing it are two very different things.

His body is _screaming_. He wants to yell, cry, kiss Kyoutani, beg him to pound him into oblivion, see him moan his name while he comes… it’s overwhelming, every touch searing his skin but he pleads for more, mouthing incoherently against Kyoutani’s skin while he tries to kiss his neck. This is easily the best sex of his _life_ and he has to take a moment to thank whoever is up there for gifting him with this moment; with this man.

He feels _incredible_ , he moans against Kyoutani and begs him for more, more, _more_. Kyoutani relents and pounds into him harder, his dick slamming hard against Yahaba’s prostate. The former trembles as he throws his head back, a muffled groan of his lover’s name.

He’s beautiful, all soft skin and lovely eyes and hair, the way his voice drips with emotion like honey and Kyoutani knows he’s made the right decision. He brings their lips together, Yahaba trying to kiss him back as his pace increases and he’s moaning, they both are, as they come together.

\-----

Kyoutani groans, head hitting the pillow once they’ve cleaned up. Yahaba is already in bed – wearing nothing more than a borrowed pair of Kyoutani’s boxers – which pleases Kyoutani with its domesticity. It’s not that late but Kyoutani is tired from a very long day and the sex.

“Wanna cuddle?” Yahaba asks, laying down on the bed. Kyoutani flushes – really, from the intimacy – but nods. His boyfriend knows his weak spots, his favourite things. He slides under the covers, bringing them up and over his body. Yahaba lifts an arm and Kyoutani curls against him, one hand sliding over his body and the other draping across Yahaba’s pale chest to grip on to his waist. He nuzzles into the brunet’s neck, nose tickling his jaw.

Yahaba chuckles as he lowers his hand, resting it on the back of Kyoutani’s head. He lets his hand move slowly, rubbing circles and gently patting him. Kyoutani yawns, eyes closing as he relaxes under Yahaba’s touch. The latter holds up his book to read; he’s not tired enough yet to sleep but this is his absolute favourite thing in the world.

He continues to gently pat Kyoutani until he feels his chest rise and fall rhythmically, very soft snores escaping his pink lips.

“Goodnight, Kentarou. I love you,” Yahaba whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Kyoutani’s forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two volleyball dorks. If you have requests for them, or any other Haikyuu!! ship, post them below in the comments or send me an ask on tumblr (we-crows-can-fly)


End file.
